


So Stop Pretending

by loveandallthat



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8517751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandallthat/pseuds/loveandallthat
Summary: They’re not dating; they’re just really attracted to each other, spend most of their time together, and don’t see other people.They’re not dating.(Dex and Nursey go on a road trip.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if any of my information about these places seems off to you!
> 
> Thank you so much to my beta, who is so busy with real life that I can't believe she managed to spare a glance at this story, much less offer such helpful feedback. Jessica you are wonderful.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~PS the title is because "you can dish it but can you really take it" is too long but I still wanted to reference the dumb Cobra Starship song.~~

Ransom and Holster already throw better kegsters than any of the ones last year.

Nobody is even a little bit surprised.

It gets to the point where Dex is drunker than he has ever been, without even realizing he has been heading in that direction all night.  Chowder and Farmer are kindly keeping an eye on Nursey, which is what Dex had actually expected to be doing, so he is having an unanticipatedly chill time.

He definitely won’t use that word the next time he talks to Nursey.  He stares pointedly ahead, squinting against the dim lighting, trying not to meet the eyes of anybody he knows too well.  It’s stuffy and hard to breathe in the thick air, bodies too close for the space and beer too plentiful.

Nursey, when Dex can no longer resist looking over, is leaning against the wall at the edge of a dancing crowd.  Ransom and Holster are in the middle of it, looking thrilled and in their element, and the contrast only makes Nursey’s introverted posture stranger.  Dex wants to change it.

He doesn’t think about how he isn’t supposed to be paying attention to Nursey today, doesn’t have to be.  Instead he runs over, elbowing past Chowder and Farmer without realizing it until much too late.

“Sorry,” he calls, but it’s lost in the music.

Nursey looks up when he gets close.  “Dex,” he greets, then looks back down.  Dex sways forward a little, listing from the alcohol.

“A little unsteady?” Nursey asks, looking more focused.  Dex resists the urge to sing the next lines of the song.  He wonders if Nursey even knows it, or if it’s too mainstream.  Dex does hum it, though, and Nursey smiles like he knows.

“I will hold onto you if you need it,” Nursey jokes.  Apparently, he does know.

Dex props himself up with a hand on the wall by Nursey’s head.  It’s not enough; he really should use his other hand too, except that’s pushing their boundaries a little further than even what they’ve been doing lately.

What they’ve been doing lately has been described by Chowder as, “super weird flirting.”  Dex doesn’t know about that, but he’s stopped trying to hide the fact that he’s attracted to Nursey and wants to be around him even when he’s being annoying, which is most of the time.  It’s freeing, and yet strangely changes almost nothing between the two of them.

They deny it when anyone claims they’re acting strange, anyway, and keep fighting and--whatever this is.  Nursey grins; Dex is pretty sure he’s staring straight at his hair.  What a loser.  Dex, in retaliation only, of course, looks at all of Nursey.

“Like what you see?” Nursey asks, posing

Dex is surprised to hear him speak, surprised he tore his eyes away from a fun opportunity to tease Dex for whatever was probably going on with his hair.  He lifts his hand to check, trying to be subtle.

“Yes,” Dex answers, and then immediately catches at himself.  He hadn’t had _that_ much to drink, had he?  This went so far beyond their veiled comments and innuendo into direct-approach territory.

Nursey looks similarly shocked, a hint of redness visible in his cheeks.  Dex tries not to flatter himself by thinking he heard Nursey’s breath hitch.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Poindexter,” Nursey shoots back, and his voice betrays nothing.  It’s somehow still thrilling.

They’ve been dancing around this for so long; it’s always simmering beneath Dex’s skin.  It’s like he’s never been as attuned to anything in his life, except hockey.  He could just be drunk, but deep down he knows that’s not it, that his body is reacting to Nursey’s nearness.

“Are you having fun?” Dex asks, trying for casual.  It mostly works.

“I wouldn’t mind leaving,” Nursey replies, off-handedly.  He looks down at the floor, but keeps sneaking unsubtle glances up at Dex.  

“Hey, Dex,” Chowder says, from much closer than he remembered.  Dex jumps.  Nursey seemed surprised too, brought out of the moment and leaning back out of Dex’s space.  Dex feels cold.

“Hi,” Dex replies too loudly, the epitome of un-chill.

Chowder smiles, then drags him around into the kitchen, which is currently empty.  Once they’re sufficiently alone, he turns on Dex, looking even more panicked than usual.

“What are you doing?” he hisses.

“Um, what?”

“Are you and Nursey dating?” Chowder asks, and whoa.  OK, Dex can kind of see where he got that idea.  But _dating_?  They can’t even sit together at team breakfasts without fighting; what are people imagining in a relationship between them?

“No!” Dex shouts.  “Maybe.  Definitely not.”

Chowder gives him a _look_ and Dex doesn’t blame him one bit.  He sounds out of his mind.

“No,” Dex insists, firmly.  “We’re not.  We just, um, that.”  He gestures helplessly at the space where he and Nursey were talking before they were interrupted for this.  Then he abandons the movements completely to instead bring his hands up enough to drop his face into them.  Chowder immediately grabs his wrists and pulls them back again, so they can be eye to eye.

For all his attempts at leading this conversation, Chowder looks as panicked as Dex feels.

“Dex, I don’t know what that was.”  It sounds like it hurts to admit.

“It’s just . . . one day at practice, we were in sync.   _Really_ in sync, you probably even remember it.  We were talking, after, and I noticed he looked kind of fucking good and he noticed me noticing . . . It’s just a thing.  Hardly even a thing, almost nothing.”  There’s no way Dex would talk this much without all the beers.  And the tub juice.  He feels loose, like for once in his life it’s easy to admit something.  Chowder is looking at him with so much understanding that everything just spills out, including a little of Dex’s drink onto both of their shoes.  Chowder doesn’t even complain.

“Yeah, I remember that day,” Chowder confirms quietly.  “So it was just that and today?”

“Um, not really.  It’s at practice, breakfast, the Haus, in class, in his room, at dinner, oh man at dinner . . .”

“In his room?!?” Chowder interrupts, eyes huge and mouth hanging comically open.

Dex’s eyes widen, too.  “Not like that!”

“Sure, sure, of course not.”

Chowder looks zero percent convinced, scrutinizing Dex’s face.

They’re not _dating_ ; they’re just really attracted to each other, spend most of their time together, and don’t see other people.

They’re not dating.

“It’s nothing,” Dex insists.  “I’ll see you later.”

He walks, mostly steadily, into the remaining sea of people dancing.  Most people have left by now; it’s later than he had realized.

“You’re back!” Nursey announces, throwing his arms around Dex.  WIth his cheek pressed tight to Nursey’s, Dex realizes that while he and Chowder were discussing, there was nobody paying attention to Nursey.  He drags his arm out of where it’s trapped between their bodies and pats Nursey on the shoulder blade awkwardly.  He turns back to see if Chowder’s there, but he’s nowhere to be found.

Dex waits way too long to pull away.  In his defense, he’s drunk, too.

\---

They have a very, very late breakfast the next day at the house.  Somehow Bitty is less hungover than everyone else--come to think of it, Dex thinks he was in his room all night--so he manages to make enough food for everyone.

Dex is early without really meaning to be, and he tries to help as much as he can.  Once he sits down for just a second, Nursey arrives and takes the seat next to him, though all of them are free.  He hooks his leg behind Dex’s, folds his arms on the table, and puts his head down without making eye contact.  Dex is flummoxed, and he can’t stand back up without disrupting Nursey.  He looks around, sighs, and puts his head down too.

He wakes up to the entire team there, already eating and serving themselves from the family-style dishes in the center of the table, and when he sits up, a plate of toast falls onto everything on the table around him.  The plate slides off of Dex, down Nursey’s back, and onto the floor.

“Ohhh!!!” ten voices yell simultaneously.

“We managed to stack eleven pieces on your head,” Holster explains.

“Great,” Dex grumbles.  He still hasn’t taken his eyes of Nursey, who was awoken by the commotion and still looks out of it.

“Feeling lazy today?” Ransom asks.  Dex doesn’t bother pointing out that he assisted the whole time Bitty was cooking.

They’re handed fresh plates, and Dex loads his with the food in the middle of the table.  Chowder is staring at him; he ignores him and fills Nursey’s plate at the same time.  Everyone else is halfway finished, so he rushes a little, which means that Nursey is the last one eating.  Their legs are still pressed together.  Just as he’s about to bite the bullet and stand up, Bitty grabs his plate to take it to the sink.  Nobody is in any hurry to leave, and they sit down after Chowder volunteers to clean and Bitty stays, knowing that he might still need to help.

“What’s everybody doing next weekend?” Holster asks.

“You know, since there won’t be another awesome party like this,” Ransom adds.

Nursey actually speaks up.  “This band I like is playing back home, but I don’t know if I want to go all the way back for it.”

He shows the ticket around the table with his phone and . . . no way.

“I love them,” Dex blurts.

“What?” everyone within earshot exclaims, with sitcom-like timing.

Shit.  

Nursey raises one eyebrow.  “Do you . . . want to go with?” he drawls.

“I thought you said you weren’t going.”  Dex is nervous, for some reason.

“I said I didn’t know, but now I do.  I’m going with or without you.”  Nursey folds his arms and tries to maintain eye contact with Dex, which always makes Dex’s face feel warm.

“I’m not going to let you brag to me about how great it was,” Dex mumbles.  He kind of hopes that Nursey won’t hear, will just brush it off.

No such luck.

“That means you’ll go?” Nursey asks, seeming hopeful.  He waits for an answer, bringing his face way too close to Dex’s.  Except, he doesn’t move away.

Dex rolls his eyes.  “Looks like it.”

Ransom and Holster try to start a huddle, excluding Dex and Nursey.  Nobody else plays along, though, so they converse amongst themselves.

“We’ve decided to allow this,” Ransom declares.

Dex was unaware that they needed their permission.  Nursey just gives a nod and says, “chill.”  Does that mean that he wants Ransom and Holster to chill, or that he thinks the situation _is_ chill?  Dex wants to know but he doesn’t want to ask.

It occurs to him later that night that he’s basically going along with whatever Nursey says.

\---

They take Nursey’s car, and Nursey insists that he can drive the whole time.  Dex isn’t insulted; he knows that it’s supposed to be a gesture of kindness and not an affront to his driving.

He’s not insulted.

“You’re better with directions,” Nursey insists.  It’s true, but it doesn’t matter if Nursey misses all of the turns anyway.  Plus, Dex is also better at driving.

“Why do you even have a car?” Dex mumbles.  “You’re from Manhattan.”

They start early in the morning--for college students, which is ten o’clock.  Providence is so, so close, but they don’t feel comfortable reaching out to Jack.  They look at each other sideways when they talk about it, trying to gauge each other’s reactions, and they’re in agreement.  They’re too nervous.  Bitty _has_ to know that they’re passing him, and he’s always talking to Jack.  So Jack probably knows they’ll be nearby.  Almost certainly.

And Dex gets distracted by Nursey’s hands on the steering wheel, curling and uncurling, tapping to the rhythm of the music.  He keeps the beat so well, without even seeming to think about it.

He looks away when Nursey looks over at him, even though in the past he might have held his gaze, met his eyes.

Dex looks away, Snapchats a picture of the Providence exit to Bitty, who immediately responds to say he hopes Dex isn’t driving--and then goes into way too much detail about Jack’s current schedule, and what a shame it is that he won’t have free time at that moment to get lunch with them.

It feels close and intimate in the car.  Dex _knows_ it’s a mid-size, knows logically that even two hockey players can fit in a sedan together and not get in each other’s way.

But somehow that isn’t what’s happening.  Their arms somehow brush constantly.  Dex tries to lean really far against his window, and then it looks ridiculous.  He rights himself in the seat again.  

Suddenly, Dex is pretty sure that they’re not taking the fastest route.  Because he looked it up last night, when he was definitely looking up their trip for the purpose of being helpful, and not because he was so nervous he couldn’t sleep.

They are, indeed, getting off to go to Providence, taking the exit.

“What are you doing?” Dex asks slowly.  He’s kind of afraid that he’s going to spook Nursey, or something, that he’s in a trance from his weird music and not realizing what he’s doing.  But Nursey smiles like he expected the question, and keeps driving.

“Downtown Providence is supposed to be nice,” Nursey says, after he’s off the highway.

“We’re already going to the most downtown downtown there is,” Dex argues incredulously.  He’s not even as bothered as he sounds, just surprised.  “Jack won’t hang out with us.”

“I think we’ll be fine,” Nursey says, voice laced with amusement.

It hits Dex suddenly.  “Did you plan this?”

“Why do you think we left so early?” Nursey counters.

Dex feels weird all of a sudden.  In general, this could have been two bros going to a concert.  When things are added on, it starts to sound like a road trip.  Still pretty normal.  When their teasing flirting is added, when Nursey is driving and taking Dex _to his home_ , it’s dangerously close to a date.  

“Do I have something on my face?” Nursey asks, smirking.  Dex realizes he’d been looking at Nursey this whole time, and goes red.  Nursey turns to him at the stoplight.  “I don’t mind if you stare.”

Dex scoffs, but of course he was doing exactly that.  At this point, he knows this detour was premeditated.  “What’s in Providence?”

“There’s a zoo,” Nursey says casually.

“Really?”

“Yes, there really is a zoo.”

The best response to that is a glare, but Nursey doesn’t notice it, actually focusing on driving, so Dex has to speak up.  “What is this, a date?”

Nursey shrugs.  “It’s not _not_ a date.”

Even though he was expecting it, the admission still makes Dex’s heartbeat speed up.  Obviously it was a date; why was he responding like this?  He agreed to it, knew what he was getting himself into.  Well, to an extent.  Dex can’t come up with anything else to say until they get to the zoo and Nursey parks and they get out with a decent walk ahead of them.  And he still just cannot believe this is happening.

“The zoo?” he confirms.  “Seriously?”

Nursey just pulls him by the wrist until he follows, then releases him.  Dex’s arm seems to ache to have the touch back.  He walks closer instead; it feels like they’re back in the car bumping elbows again.

When they get to the ticket window, Nursey immediately asks for two and hands (accidentally drops) his credit card to the woman behind the counter.  Dex doesn’t have his wallet out yet--he thought Nursey didn’t, either--and by the time he has it open it’s too late.

“I can afford a zoo ticket, Nurse,” he grumbles, legitimately pissed.

“Dex, I’m not going to make you pay for something you didn’t agree to.”

Something about this makes Dex mad, but he knows it might be his own issues, so he tries to stay calm about it.  It doesn’t completely work.  “If I’d said ‘fuck no’ would we have left?”

“Well, yeah,” Nursey replies.

“Then I agreed to it.”

“Too late now,” Nursey insists, even though it isn’t, not at all.

Maybe he agreed to this trip, but Dex doesn’t remember ever signing up for this to be his life.

\---

“That one is definitely you,” Nursey declares, indicating a monkey that was fidgeting, rearranging the contents of the enclosure to suit its needs.  Dex didn’t want to admit it, but he could see what Nursey meant.

They’re in the rainforest exhibit, which is indoors and somehow makes Dex feel claustrophibic, in a way that is definitely related to Nursey, and also actually isn’t that bad, just sort of tingly.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges.  “Then that one’s you.”  He indicates the one that has managed to find the only sunny spot, and is currently lounging--not sleeping, as its eyes are decidedly open.

Monkey-Dex stops its work suddenly, then purposefully makes its way over to Monkey-Nursey, drops down, and curls in close.

The real Dex and Nursey immediately glance sideways at each other.

“Definitely still you,” Nursey mumbles under his breath as they leave.

\---

Nursey miraculously lets Dex buy his own shitty zoo lunch.  It’s kind of overpriced, so Dex doesn’t get very much; if he’s starving later, he can get a protein bar at a gas station or something.  But Nursey ends up with way too many fries and insists that if Dex doesn’t eat them he’s just going to throw them away.  Dex recognizes, in an off-hand way, that the food isn’t all that great.  As a college student, he isn’t necessarily picky, but it does occur to him that he’s definitely been spoiled by Bitty’s cooking and baking.

They also ignore the “Don’t feed the pigeons,” signs and throw some of the fries under the table.  After a few moments, one of the birds stands directly on Nursey’s foot, like it senses his ridiculous chill attitude, or something.  Dex just stares incredulously and tries not to be obvious about it.

“I guess I’m comfortable,” Nursey declares, somehow doing so without moving his body or disrupting the animals in and around his feet.  Dex weirdly thinks back to the dumb monkeys in the rainforest exhibit.

\---

The drive is really nice, an excellent view the entire time, and somehow Dex feels at home when he gets to see the water.  Nursey keeps glancing to his right, and initially Dex thinks he’s looking out the window as a weird payback for Dex looking out _his_ window, but then he realizes, simultaneously, that a) Nursey possibly thinks Dex is looking at _him,_ and b) Nursey is definitely looking at Dex.  He isn’t nervous, anymore.

Nursey suddenly looks out his own window, like he’s realized that there’s a view, and understands what Dex is seeing.  The traffic is a little slow; Dex is kind of worried that Nursey will get distracted, as he’s prone to do, and rear-end someone.

He still doesn’t warn him about it.

“Nice, right?”  Dex startles at Nursey’s voice, and sees that he’s taken a hand off the wheel to gesture at the shore.  “Nice” is a massive understatement.  They’re on a bridge over the Connecticut River, and it seems like he can see the ocean on the other end of it.  The city right at the edge of the water looks bright and full of boats and a little nostalgic for some of the nicer areas where Dex lives.

“It’s everything,” Dex answers.  He realizes that means absolutely nothing, but it seems to make sense to Nursey, who just smiles wider.

“We’re taking the slightly long way,” Nursey confesses.  Yeah, Dex had figured that out already.  It wasn’t that much longer, anyway, and as melodramatic as Dex’s words were, he had also kind of meant it.  He probably would have forgiven Nursey even if it added hours to their journey, even if they missed the concert.

They drive for an hour, and Dex doesn’t mind, somehow.  Time flies, in a stuffy car with a great view and Nursey’s incredibly unusual taste in music.

Dex finally speaks up.  “I can’t even believe that there’s _one_ band that we agree on, when you listen to--what even is this?”

“It’s experimental,” Nursey defends, without any heat.  His eyes are sparkling with humor; Dex can tell that he wants to laugh at him.  Besides, Dex’s music taste isn’t exactly wide and open-minded, but he knows enough to have already guessed that.

Dex doesn’t actually hate it, but he keeps that information to himself.

Nursey looks really, painfully good sitting in the driver’s seat, focused on the road and grasping the steering wheel loosely, with the best scenic backdrop imaginable.  Dex wonders if he knows, if he can tell.  Does Derek Nurse expertly position himself to look as attractive as possible, like a model?  Or is that just how he’s comfortable; does he just know exactly how to hold himself to drive Dex crazy?

“You look good,” Nursey blurts suddenly.  Dex jumps, then backtracks.   _He_ looks good?  Is Nursey serious, or chirping him?  “You look like you’re chill.”

Now Nursey definitely cannot be talking to him.  Nobody would ever dream of calling William Poindexter “chill,” especially not Derek Malik Nurse.

“You’re chirping me,” Dex accuses.

“I’m not!” Nursey protests.  “Sheesh.”

Dex thinks that they’ve dropped the subject, and what a mistake that is.  They get off at another exit--how did Nursey even memorize this route?--and eventually meander their way to a parking lot.  When they’re out of the car, stretching out their cramped limbs, Nursey walks around the car to where Dex is standing just outside the passenger-side door.  Dex looks up right as Nursey boxes him in against the side of the car.

“Whoa,” he breathes, surprised and really, really close to Nursey.  His back is completely pressed against the car, and he can’t move--doesn’t necessarily want to, but also can’t.

“I meant it,” Nursey insists, seriously.  “You look _so_ hot today.”

And then he’s gone.

Dex stays plastered to the car, unable to get up for a good while, catching his breath--he hadn’t realized he’d been holding it.

“Come on,” Nursey calls, suddenly back to normal.  Dex snaps out of it and realizes that they’re at an aquarium, which, seriously?

“More animals?”

Nursey laughs.  “I thought that fish were right up your alley?”  Dex is about to protest, even though there’s a modicum of truth in that statement, but Nursey continues.  “I actually managed to get free tickets from someone in my modern poetry class.”  It grates on Dex somehow, that Nursey actually recognizes his monetary troubles and tries to be sensitive to them, by emphasizing that he didn’t spend his own money on this.  It’s almost worse than when he acts without thinking or treats money like it doesn’t matter, like it’s easy to obtain or unlimited, so different to the experiences of Dex and his family.

The over-consideration is worse than the lack of it, in a way.  People can go about it wrong, emphasize the wrong issues and shine too much of a spotlight on his insecurities.  But Nursey has never looked down on him--looked sideways at him like he was close-minded and wrong, maybe, but never like he thought he was less than.

When Dex didn’t speak for a while, Nursey looked over at him.  “Seriously, his parents work for some company that gets free tickets all the time.  I told him about my plans--um, I may have been planning this for a while--and he said he could help me out.”

Dex is suddenly jealous at the word, “he.”  It’s completely irrational; he knows Nursey is bisexual, that someone of any gender could be as much of a threat.  But it feels more like a one-to-one replacement this way, somehow.  Since when did Nursey have people he talked to this much outside of the hockey team?  People who were into poetry, too.

“Fine,” he acquiesces.  “The aquarium.”

It’s at least as stereotypical of a date as the zoo, he thinks, as they go through the front entrance.  It’s a little cold when they stop to look at a map, and Nursey leans into Dex’s space; it’s suddenly way warmer.

There’s another rainforest-inspired exhibit, and Dex knows without consulting Nursy that they’re going straight there.  There’s a frog tank, of course.  Dex actually walks over to it first, kind of wanting to get the jokes out of the way, but mostly anxious to have more of a reason to dick around with Nursey--so to speak.

The frogs are jumping around and bumping into each other excitedly as soon as Nursey joins Dex.  They look at each other.

“Chowder,” Nursey says, at the same time as Dex says:

“They’re all Chowder.”

They both try not to laugh, and fail.  There are kids around them, who probably think it’s pretty strange that these two rather large dudes are laughing at a tank full of frogs.  Dex doesn’t feel embarrassed, though; if anything it’s a passing thought that he could feel awkward, that this is an uncomfortable or strange situation--but the emotion just isn’t there.  All he feels is camaraderie, a pleasant warmth, physical and emotional, that he’s come to associate with the SMH team in general, but more specifically with Nursey.  The man in question is still laughing unrestrainedly, looking up at the animals every once in a while, or over at Dex.

“Come on,” Nursey coaxes, composing himself.  “We can’t leave without seeing the penguins or the beluga whales.”

Dex is pretty sure they can, but he follows anyway.  He follows when Nursey wants to go for a walk by the water, too.

\---

Dex expects to go straight to New York from the aquarium, so he’s surprised when they stop driving after less than a half an hour.  He looks over at Nursey questioningly.

“Last stop, I swear,” he promises.

Reading the sign, Dex furrows his brow.  “A museum?”

“What?” Nursey asks.  “Road trips can be educational.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

They walk right in--it’s free.  Dex is willing to admit, at least to himself, that this place seems interesting when he realizes it’s a submarine museum.  Submarine Force Museum, the sign proudly displays.

The museum _is_ informative, but mostly it’s just really fucking cool.  Dex is kind of mesmerized when they actually get to see the USS Nautilus, and he wonders how Nursey knew.

Maybe he just thinks Dex is obsessed with anything that goes in water.

“Is ‘wet’ the theme of the day?” he asks Nursey quietly, as they’re leaving.

“The zoo wasn’t wet,” Nursey points out.  “Maybe it’s just you.”

Dex flushes without even knowing why.  Nursey elbows him teasingly.

“Um,” Dex starts.  He doesn’t know where he’s going with this.  He decides on, “Thanks.”

Nursey looks embarrassed, turns away.  “It’s chill,” he says, and Dex rolls his eyes.

\---

After that, they have two hours of driving, so Nursey stops at a deli with outdoor seating.  It’s a little breezy, but still suitable for eating outside, and still pretty nice.  The sandwiches are reasonably priced, and probably good--Dex barely tastes his.  They’re surrounded by couples, most of them drinking craft beers.  He thinks that’d be pretty nice, sitting here on a real date with Nursey, drinking beers.  Of course, they can’t do either of those things, except that they’re kind of on a date.  But not really.

Nursey tries his sandwich without asking.

They’re not on a date.

He eats the rest of Nursey’s sandwich in retaliation.  Their food becomes kind of shared.

It’s definitely not a date.  Their knees are _barely_ even touching.

Nursey smiles and his eyes are bright, laughing at a dumb joke Dex told about Bitty and Chowder, and Dex’s heart is beating extra fast, and they’ve never talked about this thing between them, so it isn’t a date.

\---

The last two hours to New York are awkward, and it might be Dex’s fault because he’s thinking way too hard about whether or not they’re dating, why they’re not dating, if Nursey even wants that or if he’s teasing him--if all the flirting was a lead-in to this culmination, this perfect day to taunt Dex with what he can’t have.

He doesn’t want to ask, because this way there’s no chance of a refusal.

So he finds it really, really hard to find anything to say, because he can only think about one thing, and he can’t talk about it.

“It’s late, so it’s going to be pretty ridiculous to drive around the city,” Nursey announces.  He does that; he doesn’t ever really say New York City or Manhattan.

Dex manages an, “OK,” and it’s weirdly hard to get it out, too long without using his voice.

“We’ll drop the car off at my parents’ place, and take the subway,” Nursey continues, like it’s not weird that Dex is acting so weird.  It does occur to him that he’s been really passive on this trip, but it feels like a weird dream.  Maybe because he doesn’t really do things like this; he’s out of his comfort zone and where he’d usually be fighting it--he doesn’t want to.  That’s what it ultimately is.  Dex wants to be here, with Nursey, and he doesn’t want to ruin it.

Nursey’s parents’ place is possibly the nicest place he’s ever been.  It doesn’t escape his notice that Nursey doesn’t refer to it as his own home.  Dex still calls Portland home, even though he has a dorm room and he has the Haus, to an extent.  Nursey apparently immediately slapped the title onto the first place that wasn’t where he grew up--maybe it has something to do with his high school.

“Sorry, you’re going to have to share my room.  We’re re-doing the guest room.  Probably should have told you that earlier.”

Dex shrugs.  “That’s fine.”

He has an enormous bed; Dex almost wants to ask if he didn’t accidentally lead them into his parents’ room--but then he thinks it could be a weird topic.

It’s confirmed for him.  Nursey takes one look at Dex’s face and explains, “It’s my parents’ old bed.  They decided their schedules were so different that they couldn’t sleep in the same bed.”

Dex knows Nursey doesn’t believe that, but he has nothing helpful to say.  What comes to mind is, “why didn’t they just get rid of it and buy you something new?” but that’s probably as bad as when people talk about Dex’s lack of money.

He waits until Nursey is looking at him.  “Thanks for letting me stay here.”  The atmosphere in the room is way too sincere, and it’s Dex’s fault, and Nursey is looking at him much too intensely and leaning in.  Dex is weak, but he redirects what might have been intended as a kiss, turns it slightly clumsily into a hug.

They don’t do this, and it’s clear that they don’t know how, for the first few seconds.  It’s too close to be a bro-hug and too far to be intimate--until they shift and they’re pressed together from chest to thigh.  They’ve been teasing each other for so long that it’s a surprise that Dex feels weirdly protective.  It only lasts for maybe ten seconds, but Dex is affected by the gesture.  When he pulls away he feels embarrassed--who turns down a kiss for a hug?  He turned away the chance to find out where all of their messing around had been leading.

“Ready to go?” Nursey asks.  He doesn’t look like he needs to leave, leaning against his desk in a leisurely way like they could just skip the concert altogether.

Dex composes himself.  “Yeah.  Let’s go.”

\---

The subway is surprisingly crowded; they have to stand the entire time.  Nursey stands closer than he needs to, and they bump into each other a lot.  Dex doesn’t even react anymore.  It feels really normal.  Maybe their on-ice chemistry is finally joining them in real life.

“This is our stop,” Nursey announces, but quietly.  Dex had noticed that nobody else was talking.  They get off, and Nursey leads them around really naturally.  It’s weird to see Nursey in his element, both because he’s not used to this side of Nursey when they’re not playing hockey, and because he seems so honestly begrudging about it.

It’s also weird following him when he doesn’t know how long they’re going to be walking.  Nursey doesn’t exactly weave in and out of the crowd, so much as walk his own path that happens to have no people in it.  Dex just follows; Manhattan-Nursey is foreign to him.

They finally get to the building.  Dex is pretty sure that they didn’t take the most direct route, but he has no way to prove it.  

They get to the front of the line eventually, after Dex spends the entire time wondering what people think of them when they look at them.  Probably nothing.

“IDs?” the bouncer prompts.  They hand them over, and he inspects them.  “Sorry kids, this is a 21 and over show.”

The mood shatters.

“I’m sorry, what?” Dex asks.  Nursey is saying nothing, looking away from the situation entirely.

“Yeah,” the bouncer continues.  “I guess it wasn’t advertised well.  We just figured that people around here would already know.”

Dex is irritated on Nursey’s behalf; after today he considers Nursey the quintessential New Yorker and is offended at the notion that he somehow doesn’t know what he’s doing.  But Nursey just leaves obligingly.

“What the fuck was that?” Dex asks, when they’re still almost-definitely within earshot.

“It sucks,” Nursey agrees.  He does seem a little upset, but not really all that put out.  “We could just hang out?”

“It’s bullshit is what it is,” Dex continues, then processes what Nursey has said.  “Oh--yeah, we could do that.”

Nursey smirks.  “Chill.”

It’s not even clear if he’s telling Dex to chill, or that the situation is chill, but that’s kind of how Dex feels every time Nursey says that, anyway.

“You get to be a tourist,” Nursey chirps, pinching Dex’s cheek.

Dex slaps his hand away.  “I’ve been to New York City before.”

He hopes the surprise on Nursey’s face is because he didn’t think that Dex had ever left Maine, instead of that he kind of just rudely hit him.

“Not like this,” Nursey promises.

They don’t do any of the tourist things, which Dex has already done, and didn’t need to.  Nursey instead takes him to food stands that look completely innocuous but are delicious, and into tiny bars on side streets that somehow, inexplicably aren’t carding people.

Dex tries not to get too drunk, because he doesn’t know what he might do if he’s too uninhibited.  He looks over at Nursey, who is dancing easily, naturally.  He doesn’t know what he’ll do even _with_ his current inhibitions, to be honest.

Nursey goes to the bathroom, and Dex pulls out his phone.  He goes on Twitter to see if Bitty is posting anything, but the profile for the band is still open.  The most recent tweet says:

IMPORTANT: we are now letting all over-18s into our show tonight. if you were turned away please come back!

Dex puts his phone on the bar right as Nursey gets back.  Nursey nods at the phone.  “Interesting text?”

“No, nothing,” Dex stammers.

Nursey accepts this, as he is prone to do.  “We could go back to my parents’, or we could go to the gay bar I used to go to.”

Dex suddenly starts to panic.  They’re going to talk about this.  Nursey is looking at him under his lashes, trying and failing to be subtle.  It might be Dex’s fault, acting so incredibly conservative and then taking Nursey’s flirting and giving it back in kind.

Hopefully in this heteronormative world, not jumping up and screaming, “No, what’s the matter with you?” is at least enough that, when combined with the last couple of months, it will tell Nursey what he needs to know.

“I’ve never been to one,” Dex confesses.  He has to pause to gather enough strength for the next part.  “But I’ve always wanted to.”

It’s all that Nursey needs.  He starts walking to the exit without checking to see if Dex is following, and walks less than a block before entering another building, like their prior location was planned for its proximity.

It probably was; everything about this night seemed kind of intentional, even after their old plans were shot.

He _has_ always wanted to go to a gay bar, in a weird, curious part of his mind.  Dex isn’t much for parties, but living at the Haus had really opened him up to them, and helped him realize that there were different types of partygoers--not everyone was on the dancefloor going crazy, not everyone was shitfaced, some people were just drinking slowly, getting a little loose, and having conversations that they might not have had otherwise with people they’ve just met.  And Dex has been all those people, sometimes even in the same night.

The club isn’t as flamboyant as Dex may have been led to believe from TV shows, but it _is_ disproportionately full of men.  There are women, in groups with each other or among the men, but Dex also sees tons of men, in various states of dress.  He wonders suddenly what Nursey was like here, by himself, without Dex there to see.  Maybe it’d be the same, but Dex doesn’t think so.  It’s not like Nursey could have been going that often anyway; he’s still not old enough now and can’t have looked old enough for very long.

Nursey drags him straight to the dancefloor, yelling something about getting the full experience.

The full experience, it turns out, includes Nursey dancing _very_ close to him, in front of him, rubbing on him.  And then, when he’s already driven crazy, giving a nod to another man, who plasters himself to Dex’s back.  Dex is doing almost none of the work, which is good because it allows him to focus all his attention on not putting his hands on the wrong part of Nursey.  It goes fairly well, until the man behind him grabs his wrists to lead his hands onto Nursey’s ass, like he’s helping.

Dex and Nursey groan simultaneously, then quickly look at each other.  This is . . . it’s undeniably escalation of the thing between them, and Dex clearly crossed their emotional boundaries earlier.  It makes him want to get in Nursey’s face and demand, “how are we not dating?”

He doesn’t, but he feels it so hard it’s like he has.

Maybe Nursey hears it anyway; he looks like he’s thinking really hard about something, and they’ve only just started dancing, but the three of them go up to the bar anyway.

“The experience isn’t complete without a ridiculous cocktail,” Nursey explains, but he’s lost some of the enthusiasm from before.

“I agree,” says the man they were dancing with.  He orders and pays for the drinks, and Dex suddenly knows where this guy thinks the night is going.

“Hey thanks, but we don’t share,” Nursey says, opening his wallet.

Dex knows that he’s just trying to diffuse the situation quickly and clearly, but there’s still a weird thrill at the thought of the two of them being exclusive--clearly there’s something wrong with him.

“No problem, man,” the guy says, waving away the money as he seamlessly blends back into the dancefloor.  Dex would have expected more of a complaint, but he also noticed that the guy was really hot (and had been all over him and Nursey) and might not have much trouble convincing someone else to go along with his plan.

Nursey almost power-slams his weirdly pink cocktail.  Dex had been drinking it at a regular pace, thinking it wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever drunk.  But it seemed like Nursey was really eager to get out of that, so he tried to match pace.  Sure enough, Nursey was dragging him out of the bar not a minute later.

“You’ve really been dragging me around a lot today,” Dex comments.

Nursey pauses.  “Do you want me to stop?”

“I’ll let you know if it starts pissing me off.”

Nursey leads him to a really tall apartment building, and he walks in through a side door, and Dex suddenly feels like the underage drinking won’t be the worst part of their night for long.  They end up in an elevator, and Nursey enters in a code, then presses the button for the roof.

“My friend lives here,” he explains, as they ascend.

That makes it only really slightly better.  It also reminds Dex that he’s jealous of Nursey’s other friends.

He’s still thinking about that when they reach the top and his ears pop a little.

They get out and take a small, dark staircase to a roof door, which actually opens despite Dex’s expectations.

He steps out and walks to the edge before Nursey and oh, he thinks.  Nursey might be right.  He’s been to New York City, but never quite like this.  Dex isn’t a city boy by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s impossible not to appreciate the view ahead of him.

Nursey walks over to stand very close to him, but that’s expected.  He’s probably seen this plenty of times.  And in fact, he isn’t looking at the city at all, but at Dex, a teasing smile on his face as he makes a picture frame with his hands and holds it at Dex’s face.

“I need a picture of this,” he announces, actually taking out his phone.

Dex gives his best _are you serious_ face, thinking that Nursey is going really far for this joke.  But as soon as Dex turns back to the city, Nursey starts to actually take pictures.  Apparently he is serious.  It throws him off; they’ve never been this sincere with each other before--if it’s really not a joke.  He glances back to Nursey.

Nursey moves his phone down; the lens is probably pointing somewhere in the area of Dex’s right thigh.  “You don’t really mind, do you?”

“Um, I guess not.”  Dex doesn’t really know if he minds; he’s never been in this situation before.  His face feels warm; if he looks super red, it might bother him more.

Dex suddenly thinks, this is really nice.  And he almost never voices his feelings unfiltered--he’s definitely not afraid to speak up, but usually he tries at least a little to block out anything he could easily be chirped for.

This night is different.

“This is nice.”

Nursey turns to him when he speaks, then he’s smiling hesitantly.  And then, all at once, Dex is fed up with their indecision, the unclear intentions and the teasing comments.  Suddenly he’s kissing Derek Nurse on a rooftop in Manhattan, ignoring the voice in the back of his mind telling him that this isn’t going to clear anything up, that he could make this so much worse.

It doesn’t feel worse when Nursey gets right with the program, literally dropping his phone on Dex’s foot as he uses both hands to get a grip on the back of Dex’s shirt.

This is the third time today that they’ve been basically on top of each other, and Dex can remember the previous times so well; it’s such a relief to finally be close enough.  Nursey kisses him slowly, different from the pace that Dex started it with; they match each other quickly enough, but even when they were uneven it was perfect.  Nursey tilts his head and his nose brushes up against Dex’s cheek as their kiss deepens and Dex opens his mouth easily, feeling wild.

Nursey’s tongue in his mouth is somehow still a shock, reminding Dex of exactly where he is, whom he’s with.  He hesitates, and Nursey makes a noise of complaint in his mouth just as Dex realizes how OK with this he is.

They’re going to have to talk after this, he thinks, and loses himself with his hands in Nursey’s hair.

\---

Eventually they have to get off the roof.  Nobody disturbs them, not even any residents, but Nursey admits that his friend in this building just took him to the roof once and he watched them put in the passcode, and it’s likely that nobody would vouch for them.

Dex is kidding when he asks, “You risked getting in trouble just to show me this?”  But Nursey can’t meet Dex’s eyes, and he might have been more right than he thought.

The thought sits with him on the ride home, and he doesn’t say anything.  It gets to the point where Nursey must be uncomfortable, because he takes out his phone on the subway and glances at it.  His eyes widen, and he looks at Dex.

“It looks like we could have gotten in after all,” he tells Dex, turning his phone around demonstratively.

Fuck it, Dex thinks, and goes for broke.

“I, um, knew that.  I found out when you went to the bathroom at that one bar.”

The corners of Nursey’s mouth curl up slowly.  “We would have had time to make the second half.”

Dex knows that already.  And Nursey obviously has figured it out; he hasn’t stopped smirking at Dex.

“You were having fun!” he accuses.

At least, it feels like an accusation.  Dex wants to get defensive, even though there’s nothing wrong with that, even though he and Nursey _should_ be able to have fun together.  Especially if they’re going to . . .

He can’t think like that; it’ll drive him crazy.

Too soon, they’re at Nursey’s stop and Dex is being led out the doors.  It’s late enough that it’s pretty cool, and it feels refreshing.

The air is a stark contrast to the feeling of Nursey’s fingers between his, anyway.  Dex is distracted for the short walk back, trying not to clench his hand and trying to memorize the feeling of Nursey’s thumb tracing his.

He hadn’t noticed before, but there isn’t really anything personal in Nursey’s place; it looks like a picture from an interior design magazine.  Dex watches him fill two glasses of water, openly looks without feeling embarrassed or reserved, doesn’t look away when their eyes meet and Nursey spills a little of the water onto the floor and dries it with his sock.  He accepts the glass of water and drinks some of it, still staring.

When he’s drained his water, he leaves his empty glass on the counter, thinking that the imperfection might improve the space.  Nursey puts his next to it, and he’s suddenly inches away from Dex.

They step forward at the same time and meet in the middle.  Nursey is even bolder than before, immediately getting his hands on Dex’s ass and Dex remembers their roles reversed earlier with startling clarity.  His leg wraps around one of Nursey’s, seemingly of its own accord.

Having Nursey’s big arms around his shoulders feels _so good_ , he almost can’t handle it.  It might be the alcohol, but somehow Dex just doesn’t think so.  It’s just them.

Nursey leads them into his room and Dex is absolutely going to give him something better to think about when he sees his bed.  So he pushes Nursey onto it and climbs over him, and then it all kind of catches up to him that he’s never really done this before.

It’s not that this is a problem--he just doesn’t want to be bad at it.  Now he’s self-conscious again; it had gone away several times over the course of the evening, when it was usually ever-present.  But the feeling can’t be kept at bay forever, and it’s back.

“Are you OK?” Nursey breathes from under him, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Nursey brings his hands to Dex’s face; it’s awkward to do in their current position, Dex supporting himself with arms on either side of Nursey’s shoulders, but he somehow manages.

“We can stop here, if you want.”

Dex deflates, relaxes.  He lets his arms give out and lands mostly on top of Nursey before he rolls away to lie on his back next to him.  “I want to,” he assures Nursey, “I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

Nursey sits up immediately.  “Is that all?  I can help with that.”

For a second Dex intends to protest; he was trying to give Nursey good memories of this room, of this home.  Then Nursey is unbuttoning Dex’s pants, reaching his hand inside and slowly wrapping it around his erection, and Dex can’t remember his plan anymore.  Nursey starts slow and gentle, stopping for a painstakingly long moment to step into a bathroom and return with lube and return to his original goal.  Dex, for his part, is out of his head, trying to keep his reactions to a minimum and knowing he’s failing.  It’s all he can do not to come immediately.

When he has a brief moment of initiative, he uses it to pull Nursey’s lips back to his, and they’re both panting too hard for it to be a great kiss, but Dex needs it and Nursey obliges easily, his hand slowing its movement.

It’s only a little while longer before he’s over the edge, his face buried in Nursey’s neck, skin sticking to skin.  Dex feels boneless, absolutely incapable of following through on making Nursey feel amazing.  Except that he covers Dex’s body with his own and kisses him desperately, unevenly, and rocks against his thigh a few times until they’re both spent.

There are tissues on the bedside table and Dex could complain about the stereotype, but it’s nice that they’re at least some semblance of cleaner before they fall asleep.

\---

Nursey stops them in Essex, Connecticut on their way back.  It’s full of the houses on the water that Dex is sure he can’t afford to even look at, so Nursey’s friends probably live here, or something.  He doesn’t ask.  They pass by something advertised as a castle, the Gillette Castle State Park.

“It sounds interesting,” Nursey insists.  Dex wonders where this side of Nursey came from, the go anywhere be interested in anything side.

“You already live in a fucking castle; how is it interesting to you?” Dex asks, then feels guilty.  “We can go, if you want.”  It’s about the middle of their return trip, and they’re both pretty tired, but Dex would really do it.

“Nah,” Nursey declines.  They’re leaning against a fence that Dex hopes is public property, overlooking a relatively serene view.  It’s not early anymore, but it’s a cool day, and not too many people are out.

“Hey,” Dex calls, quietly.  Nursey turns right to him.  “Do you want to go out with me?”

Nursey’s grin makes Dex’s stomach flip, still.  “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”  He leans right into Dex’s space.

Dex rolls his eyes and shoves him away.  “Shut up,” he mutters, turning away.

“Yes, of course,” Nursey assures him, and it’s an embarrassingly huge relief.  It probably shows on Dex’s face, because Nursey is snickering into their kiss.  It occurs to Dex that they’ve never started off a kiss in sync yet, but it feels pretty much par for the course.  Dex smiles, too; it only throws them off even more.  They do get serious, though, in a way that gives Dex butterflies, knowing that Nursey _means_ it.

He has no idea how they’re going to move forward with this, how people are going to react.  He knows he won’t change his mind because of anybody else, but it might make things more annoying.

It’s hard to think about that with Nursey’s mouth on his, and his hands on Dex’s chest moving up to his shoulders and behind his neck.  He brings his own hands up to feel the strong muscles of Nursey’s back, hoping that his body is as attractive to Nursey as his is to Dex.

He groans when Nursey bites his lip and then pulls back, smiling softly, a little teasingly.

“We should get going,” Nursey suggests, and yeah, they probably should.

“Should we tell Bitty we know he’s in Providence and he can catch a ride with us if he doesn’t want to take the bus?”

Nursey laughs.  “Then he’d know that we know.”

Well, yeah.  “Maybe we should be more worried that he’d find out about us.”

This makes Nursey pause.  “Are we a secret?”  He actually, genuinely looks nervous, and Dex feels guilt in the pit of his stomach.

“Of course not,” he rushes to correct himself.  He hesitates, then takes Nursey’s hand, feeling like he’s turning their lives into a romantic comedy.  “Though, maybe we should tell Chowder first.”

“Fair point,” Nursey admits, staring at their joined hands as he links their fingers together.  Dex is relieved; he doesn’t _really_ want to keep this a secret from anyone, except maybe his family.

They finally leave, and Nursey holds his hand the entire way back to the car, and then opens Dex’s door for him.  Dex waits to roll his eyes until he knows Nursey is looking at him.

“You literally just asked me to go out with you,” Nursey insists, “I get to act like a lovestruck high schooler.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Dex argues.  Nursey pouts teasingly.  “Oh, whatever.  Just for today.”

“Sure, sure,” Nursey promises, completely unconvincingly.  He starts to drive, then, and soon the beautiful little town with the sun setting over them is at their backs.

Dex sighs, thinks, I didn’t sign up for this.  Except that he kind of did.  He breathes out again and Nursey glances over, then just laughs at his antics, eyes shining bright with mirth.

And, OK, maybe it isn’t the worst decision Dex ever made.

**Author's Note:**

> I NEED TO STOP WRITING ABOUT PLACES I HAVEN’T BEEN TO but to be fair I have been to NYC.  Also, when I was there I didn’t get carded much, but I’m also comparatively old.
> 
> Please comment anything! Especially criticism; go nuts. I'd love to hear from you.
> 
> Find me on tumblr as [loveandallthat](http://loveandallthat.tumblr.com/)! I take prompts for tons of fandoms and pairings.


End file.
